Chapter 35 - Elephantine Proportions (CF)
This was a massive, ornery Muth, it’s brown head dotted with many bumps and bruises, some still bleeding from it’s likely uncoordinated race up the stairs of his father’s tomb. The cold red eyes were narrowed, it was clearly displeased about something. Tubba could barely react when the Muth took one blundering step, it’s large brown feet landing heavily on Sarge, the cracking of bone indicating the Skellobit had been crushed. Sarge was undead - he could survive that - but it was a stark reminder of the sheer power of a Muth. Tubba shuddered at the thought of one of his living comrades being struck by one of those blows. Tubba barely had a moment to think when the Muth began to look around for something to attack, it’s eyes settling on Tubba. Paralus leapt in front of Tubba, swinging his club and connecting the brown skin of the Muth, tearing some away as the Muth attempted to bulldoze Tubba. The Muth staggered, allowing Aaron to get a few shots in with his sword, making some slashes in the side of the Muth, bleeding lightly. The Muth pivoted wildly, now facing the wall of the tomb complex, one of it’s various feet slamming into Aaron, sending the man flying backwards. The bones of Sarge began to rattle as the Skellobit began to reform, but that was hardly the concern of anyone in the battle. As Paralus and Clubbette, in one motion, stepping in front of the Muth, waving their clubs, the Muth narrowed it’s eyes and raced forward, waving the trunk furiously, forcing both Clubbas to leap out of the way. Cracking stone indicated that the Muth had barrelled through the enclosure around the tomb, spraying loose stones around. This was good, Tubba realized, the last thing he wanted was for the Muth to damage the tombs where Clubban monarchs were laid to rest. “Keep it outside the complex!” Tubba shouted - he was the farthest from the wall, so everyone was ahead of him as they raced through the cracked wall. Dibby and Gamma flew over the wall, with the Boo Guy flitting down to the head of the Muth. Being already deceased, she had nothing to worry about - Muths were incredibly physically strong, but they had nothing magical about them, being one of the crudest and bluntest species around - they barely understood the common language of the Mushroom Mainland, and could not speak it. Consequently, there was nothing for Dibby to worry about her existence. Not like Tubba had to - if he died, there was no way he could come back as a ghost. As the Muth began to stampede around with Xavier and Shazam trying to bring it down - Xavier was throwing daggers, and Shazam was firing rocks from his own nozzle nose at a breakneck pace. The Muth barely seemed to notice them, but it certainly noticed when Gamma nailed into it’s wrinkled brown side, staggering a little, clearly unsure on it’s feet. It was then that Tubba realized that this was a terrified Muth. It was trying to run away. The eyes were furious, but deeper inside them... Tubba could see fear. It was scared for it’s life. “Let it run away!” Tubba called, realizing what it wanted to do. At his call, those engaging the Muth in battle began to drop back. Tubba watched as the Muth scoured the sands, before picking an escape route and beginning to race away. Dark blue fire erupted in front of the Muth, suddenly springing out of the red sand, causing the Muth to trumpet a cry of distress and race away from the route it had picked out for itself and back toward Tubba and his friends. Tubba glanced around for the source of this fire, expecting what he saw. Framed against the afternoon sun, standing on the wall of the tomb complex, the silhouette of two tufts of hair gave Tubba all the information he needed to know. “Nice try, Tubba!” Ludwig cackled with amusement from his position looking down on him. “Your cowardice won’t save you this time!” The Muth raced back into battle against Paralus and Clubbette, who were fighting as a duo, but it was clear it was all they could do to avoid the trampling feet of the Muth. Ludwig cast a dark blue fireball at a broken piece of the wall buried in the stone, causing chips of it to fly toward Tubba. The stone was barely the size of Tubba’s fist, but he was so incensed by Ludwig’s appearance that he felt rooted to the spot. This wasn’t intended to maim or kill Tubba, it was to rile him up further, to convey Ludwig’s disdain for Tubba’s efforts to allow the Muth to run away. I can’t give in to his wiles. Tubba thought with confidence, refusing to get further enraged. However, in the time he took to decide this, the stone had already connected him in the chest. Tubba fell over under the impact of the flying stone, tumbling to the sands. As he attempted to right himself, he watched as the Muth blazed away against his friends, it’s trunk wildly swinging and connecting Clubbette, sending her flying back toward the wall of the tomb complex. He couldn’t shake the feeling of the Muth’s eyes... scared, hurt, confused... alone, and it was coming out in anger and rage, fighting for it’s own life against a world that must seem to hate it... empathy seared through Tubba... he knew what it was like to feel like everything was against you, to not be able to control your own destiny. A younger Tubba would’ve ignored the eyes of the Muth. But as the Muth forced Shazam off it’s head with a vicious shake, Tubba wondered what his father would do. What would my father do? Every muscle in Tubba’s body was screaming at him to leap back into the fight, swinging his club with vengeance, to protect his friends with muscle and anger, as was his strength, and what he would’ve always done before. What would a true King do? The Muth shook off it’s assailants at it’s feet, before turning and racing toward Tubba, who felt strangely calm. A true King would be willing to use his weaknesses, especially if it would mean kindness. Tubba threw his club aside, hearing it land heavily on the sands of Gusty Gulch, the sands that his ancestors, many of them monarchs, had strode for generations. He could see the Muth charging to him out of rage, and knew he was seconds from impact that would no doubt kill him. Feeling as if he was radiating calm, he stuck out a blood-red hand. Tubba could hear the laughter of Ludwig. It was suicidal. He could hear the screams of his friends. It was suicidal. The last heir of Cloansar died here. It was suicidal. He could imagine the satisfaction on Chubba’s face. It was suicidal. Deep down, however, Tubba knew that he had to do this. Ludwig would not let the Muth flee. Tubba refused to kill it, not when it was merely an object of Ludwig’s attempt to take over his home. The Muth had done nothing wrong. Sand sprayed over Tubba as the Muth came to a wrenching halt, barely an inch from his hand. Tubba was looking right into those deep, dark red orbs, expecting the confusion he saw. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, pushing his outstretched fingers forward, so that they were a sliver away from touching the Muth’s trunk. He could hear the sounds of battles dying down, he could imagine the bewildered expressions on his friend’s faces - Tubba was going to get himself killed. What was he trying to accomplish? And then something remarkable happened. The Muth knelt down in front of Tubba.